The Many Adventures of Finwë and Aglar
by Philosophie88
Summary: A series of drabbles concerning Thranduil's pet elk and his wife's pet bunny. Set in the universe of Proud, Beautiful and Strong. Chapter Two: Legolas and his siblings have an adventure one stormy night in the Greenwood...
1. Chapter 1: Finwë Gets Frightened

**Hello Readers,**

**This is to be another series of drabbles set in the universe of _Proud, Beautiful and Strong_, since so many reviewers have expressed their admiration for a certain bunny and a royal elk. You don't necessarily have to read _P, B, S_; just know that Finwë is the bunny and Aglar is Thranduil's elk.**

**This first story is set right after Thran and Gíl have wed. My inspiration comes from the fact that I live in the Pacific Northwest and we actually have moose occasionally stroll through our campus. One time they put out a campus alert with "moose etiquette" in it, explaining various things you were to do if you should chance upon an elk.  
One suggestion was that if the moose charged you, to run around a tree because the moose would have trouble maneuvering around it, "the gangly creature" :) we also were not allowed to feed or pet the moose…**

**So I suspected that they got these rules from Galion… Here is that story...**

**Kudos to my sister who wrote half this story while I was fueling her with the craziness in my brain while cleaning my room.**

**Enjoy!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Galion whistled merrily on his way to feed Aglar. Today was a good day. Thranduil had excused him for the afternoon, provided that he first see to the royal mount, and he was sure that he would not be called back to attend the king that evening. The king was newly wed and Gíl-wen tended to her husband at sunrise and sundown, leaving Galion free both to rise later and also to attend the fire circles at twilight.

Ah, the Lady Gíl-wen, thought Galion ...well, Queen Gíl-wen as she now was. How wonderful it was that his friend and king had married her. The Greenwood now had a lady of its own to share the burdens of ruling with its leader– Thranduil no longer had to rely on Galion for dressing himself, getting a second opinion or tempering his irritable moods. Greenwood had gained a queen... and a new royal bunny, for that matter, Galion added in his head as he swung open the door to the stables to happen upon a most curious sight.

Finwë the Bunny had perched himself in Aglar the Elk's antlers for an afternoon snooze. Aglar seemed unperturbed by such turn of events and was quietly munching on hay.

Galion smirked at the scene before him. Erestor had cautioned the butler about Finwë's errant ways, but so far the bunny had been rather fluffily endearing.

_"Don't let him get in your way..." warned Erestor, before the Greenwood party had left Imladris. "He likes to upend furniture and nibble on good robes… "_

_"Admit it, you like him." Galion interrupted._

_"You will most likely have to clean his droppings out of cupboards and dressers… "_

_"You are going to miss him." the butler interjected._

_"Don't let him into the kitchens, whatever you do… "_

The list went on for a good three minutes with Galion commenting on how the housekeeper and librarian of Imladris would ever survive without his little, friendly, obnoxious rabbit. But here in the Greenwood, the butler still could not understand Erestor's obsession with the bunny's allegedly mischievous nature. He himself was quite fond of the furry little creature, who spent virtually all of his time in the stables with his new-found friend, Aglar the Royal Elk.

A thought came to Galion then. As his master was painfully aware, he had a mischievous streak of his own and often visited it upon his unsuspecting friends. Galion had few friends besides the king, the queen, and Erestor: Aglar and Finwë were definitely included among those few. (A loner? Galion? Who would accuse him of such a thing?) Included in his duties–until recently, that is–was awakening people, i.e. Thranduil, who did not want to be awoken. Galion the butler was keenly aware of the right way to do this and the many wrong ways to do this. He was, one might say, the expert in both areas.

* * *

Meanwhile, the lord and the lady of Greenwood the Great were stealing a few moments from their respective duties to spend time in each other's company; however, neither would admit that he or she was neglecting work.

"Why, Thranduil!" Gíl-wen feigned surprise upon finding her husband in the hallway outside his office. "Are you not busy this afternoon?"

The king smiled a smile intended to charm the receiver– it charmed her. "I was just stretching my legs," he told her; what he really was doing was wandering in search of his wife. "I did think that your day would be quite taken up with work."

"Oh, I happened to be heading this way on an errand," she hedged, almost convincingly. "I heard there was a problem in one of the kitchens and was on my way down."

"I actually heard about that as well," murmured Thranduil. Somehow, although neither of them quite knew how it had happened, Gíl-wen was leaning back against the door frame of the king's office and the truant occupant of that office was running his finger along her jawline. His left hand supported him, pressing against the wall as he leaned in towards her.

Her expression was rather coy. "Now, Thran, darling... You should not invent stories in such a disgraceful manner," she admonished him, straight-faced. "How will I teach the children to tell the truth if their father lets his tongue do as it pleases?"

"Well, my tongue generally stays in line with my desires, so I allow it to play around sometimes," was the response. "I have also noticed that the behavior of my tongue frequently pleases the queen. When my tongue has such interests in mind, I see no reason to curb its behavior." As he spoke, his mouth moved successively closer to Gíl-wen's face, suggesting that what his tongue wanted to do was something other than continue the conversation.

Gíl-wen, on the other hand, had decided to tease him a little. "Your Majesty! What is this scandalous behavior?" said the queen, smoothly bringing her index finger up to his lips. "And in public, too. Suppose someone happened to come around the corner and see the king of the woodland realm imposing physical attentions on a woman, whom, I might add, he had backed into a corner?"

"Literally," he snickered, and ended her finger's resistance by biting it.

She snatched it back in a hurry. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, startled. "What was that for?"

"You are no longer an elfling, _gíl nin_," he said reprovingly. "You should know by now that a king is to be obeyed, not willfully obstructed."

Gíl-wen felt his fingers grip her waist gently but firmly and he took another step toward her. The distance separating them was now completely nonexistent.

"The queen most of all should set an example for her subjects by respecting her king's wishes," he added as he felt her arms slide around his own waist. He bent to brush his mouth against her nose.

Since Gíl-wen's back was pressed against the door frame, Thranduil was facing the office and could see through the room and out the window into the forest beyond. Something caught his eye as he moved his head downward, but he ignored it for a moment. Just before his lips touched his wife's face, the strange scene which had presented itself to his sight registered with his brain. Lifting his head, with eyes slightly wider than they had previously been, the king stared out the window in astonishment.

"_Meleth nin_," he mumbled, "am I seeing things? Have I perhaps fallen asleep at my desk?"

She pinched him. "Nay, I do not think so," Gíl-wen giggled, as he jumped.

"Now who is behaving scandalously in public?" Thranduil poked her in the ribs. "But seriously, _baineth (beautiful one)_, look out the window." He rotated her whole body until she stood in the doorway itself.

Gíl-wen was speechless. As the royal couple gazed in astonishment, Galion was running around a tree outside the window of Thranduil's office. The king's ostentatious mount looked on in utter confusion, while a petrified Finwë clutched the elk's antlers for dear life.

After a stunned silence, Thranduil asked his wife, "What has that terrible rabbit of yours done now?"

"What!" said Gíl-wen indignantly. "Do you see the expression on the poor baby's face? He is terrified, not terrible!"

Thranduil grinned suddenly. "I am more interested in the expression on the face of my butler," he said, starting to shake with laughter. "Perhaps we should go and save all parties involved from whatever has caused this most _interesting_ scene."

"Which, by the looks of it, is your ridiculous pet," returned the queen, and then gasped as her husband took her hand firmly and pulled her down the hallway. His long steps were leading in the direction of the main entrance.

"Do not call my elk 'ridiculous'," he ordered over his shoulder, indignant in his turn. Gíl-wen smirked interiorly.

* * *

The king slowed slightly when he reached the guard at the great doors, allowing her to catch up with him. They passed outside the gate and into the forest. Turning right, Thranduil and Gíl-wen headed towards the tree where the butler, the elk, and the rabbit were in a very strange situation. By this time, quite a few members of the Greenwood Guard had gathered to witness said bizarre situation, and the king and queen had to push past several elves before they were recognized and let through.

"Sire," said Maefaron with a twinkle in his eye, "should we tell your respected butler that the animal has stopped pursuing him?"

Thranduil tried to repress his laughter for the sake of dignity, but it choked him and he had to bend over double. Despite her own extreme amusement, Gíl-wen supported him, fearing that her husband would fall to the ground in agonized convulsions of mirth.

"Yes," he gasped finally, "someone do something!"

The captain of the guard strode over to secure the king's mount, while Gíl-wen, leaving Thranduil to fall or not to fall as he would, hastened to rescue her frightened rabbit.

"My poor, scared darling!" she murmured, stroking his fur gently. The bunny was shaking all over– not unlike her husband, although the source of the shaking was quite different in either case.

Thranduil had somewhat recovered himself after a minute or two, at least enough to straighten up and walk over towards his very dizzy friend. Galion had stopped circling the tree at high speeds but his steps now seemed to indicate that he had imbibed a good amount of Dorwinion.

Thranduil arched an amused brow as his butler caught his breath and stopped shakily before him.

"Care to explain your behavior, butler?" the king tried to be serious but his previous fit of laughter hindered any sternness he tried to convey.

"Sire," gasped Galion, "I went to feed your elk and that confounded rabbit… " he pointed at the somewhat recovered bunny in Gíl-wen's arms; the queen raised her eyebrows disbelieving, the king smiled wryly, and the bunny glared at the butler with beady black eyes, "that confounded rabbit woke up and startled poor Aglar, and the next thing I know he was chasing me!"

"Finwe just happened to wake up?" asked Thranduil incredulously; he knew first hand his butler's rather novel and quite mischievous ways of startling one awake, but Galion determinedly stuck to his story.

"Yes, sire, quite by accident and the next thing I know I was running around the tree to escape."

"You couldn't just climb one?" asked Gíl-wen in all seriousness.

"My queen, if I did that, I have a feeling that Aglar would undoubtedly bite me from behind as I climbed; I felt that running around a tree would get the elk to stop chasing me as he is too gangly to maneuver in such small circles."

"You are quite brilliant, Galion," said an amused Thranduil. "Perhaps you should write a book on moose etiquette." Resounding laughter floated merrily through the trees from the gathered elves.

Galion glared at the king, the queen, the captain of the guard, the rabbit, the elk, and the rest of the Greenwood elves who had chanced upon the scene. Without gracing the king with an answer he scoffed and walked back into the woods, head held high to retain what little dignity he had left. Perhaps Erestor was correct... that rabbit was a nuisance.

* * *

As Thranduil and Gíl-wen walked back indoors, Finwë fast asleep under his mistress' arm, exhausted from his afternoon adventures, the queen sought to champion her pet's cause and have him moved as far from her husband's ostentatious elk as possible.

"Thran, dearest, I do think that we should keep Finwë inside with us from now on. The poor baby had quite had an experience with your horse today."

"It's not a horse; Aglar is an elk and he has feelings."

"At any rate, Finwë should be inside from now on… "

"So he can terrorize Galion even more?"

"Precisely."

"If I recall, it was my elk that had him running around the tree… "

"Because my bunny was startled..."

"Come now,_ gíl __nin_, Finwë was in Aglar's antlers... hardly counts… "

"Would you like to sleep in your study this night,_ melethron?"_

"Hmmmm... it was undoubtedly Finwë's fault, for sure… "


	2. Chapter 2: The House of Bunnies

**For IKhandoZatman, whose comments are ever inspiring, even though they are short.**

**A/N: Baby bunnies are called kittens.**

* * *

The little elfling peered around the corner through his pale blonde locks. Quickly he scanned the corridor with wide blue eyes, then, seeing all was clear, turned around and, after giggling into his small hands, motioned to the others to follow him.

The others consisted of two small _ellyth_, one a dirty blonde, the other a raven head. Both were slightly younger than the little _ellon_ who kept giggling and bouncing on his toes excitedly.

"Hurry up," he whispered loudly through his tittering. "Êli, Rîn, we don't want to get caught."

The blonde _elleth_ sighed loudly. While it was clear that the little male elfing was trying as best he could to keep silent, his female counterpart saw clearly that such an effort was unnecessary.

"We wont get caught, Las," she said with a superior air. "_Ada_ and _Nana_ are in bed. They are sleeping. We will not get caught."

Little Legolas scowled at his sister. "They could wake up... or Galion could be awake... One does not know these things… " More giggling.

Rîneth, the dark haired one of the trio, who was enamored, even at such a tender age, of the prince of the Woodland Realm, spoke in her "beloved's" defense. "Las is right," she asserted. "I heard that Galion likes to sneak around at night and look for naughty elflings who should be in bed."

The princess looked scornfully at her best friend. "Who told you that?"

The other child looked down, pressing her chin to her chest. "Galion," she murmured into her collar, sensing that this might not have been exactly reliable information.

"Sshh!" hissed Legolas before his sister could respond. Girls could never stop talking. He rolled his eyes and turned back to face the corridor, scanning it again for any older elves.

The elflings tiptoed across the hall and up to the big door. Actually, the door was not really very big, but to the little ones it seemed large and heavy. Legolas turned the handle and the girls pushed hard while slowly the door swung outward into the king's enclosed garden.

The wind whispered through the trees and played with the children's hair as they scampered out into the shrubbery. Ducking under branches and crawling through flower beds, they made their way to the far wall, where a rabbit hutch nestled between two small bushes. Êlien reached the bunnies first and bent down to look at the small furry animals; Legolas and Rîneth stood behind, trying to look around her shoulders.

These newborn pets were descendants of the late and great Finwë, the beloved pet whom the queen had brought to the Greenwood when she had married Thranduil. That day the elflings had been disappointed to learn that although a new generation had been added to the family tree, they would have to wait until tomorrow to see the baby rabbits. Patience was a virtue which they did not possess in large quantities, so Êlien had come up with a scheme to creep out and look at them, undetected by grownups.

"Let's take them out and hold them!" whispered Rîneth excitedly, trying for the sake of secrecy not to jump up and down.

Êlien turned to face her exuberant friend. "Of course! Why else do you think we came?" she demanded indignantly. Rîneth blushed and fell silent.

Reaching out, the princess opened the cage and carefully began to remove the rabbits. She handed them back one by one. Soon Legolas and his sister each held two kittens, while Rîneth was left with the mother and father rabbit.

"Please may I hold a new bunny?" pleaded the little girl. As much as she loved the parent bunnies, Fingolfin and Aredhel, the purpose of this nighttime excursion was the new additions to the rabbit family, and she felt left out.

Legolas was not overly fond of girls. He barely tolerated Rîneth because she was his sister's friend. But she looked so forlorn, standing there in the dark with an oversized rabbit in each arm, that he could not help himself. Êlien was too absorbed in the pets she was holding to care about the other girl's predicament. The little prince held out his right hand and the kitten nestled within it. "Trade?"

The grateful smile Rîneth gave him made up for any annoyance he felt towards her. They gingerly made the switch; now all three children held at least one of the tiny bunnies.

The wind was picking up by now and the temperature was dropping quickly. Lightning flashed in the sky behind them, but the children were oblivious to the weather change until the boom of thunder a few seconds later made them jump. They turned towards the forest and looked up at the thunderhead hovering over them. Another flash dropped from the sky and struck a tree somewhere out in the forest. Terrified, the two girls ducked behind Legolas, clutching the bunnies to their chests. The prince was just as scared as the little ellyth, but he tried to hold a brave expression while the girls were watching.

"Oh!" squealed Rîneth in fright as a third lightning bolt crackled down. She stepped as close to Legolas as she possibly could, pressing against his back and hiding her face. The girl-shy prince took an unconscious step away.

"We cannot stay out here," said Legolas; his voice came out as a squeak, as hard as he had tried to sound confident and grownup. "A_da_ said that if we are out in a storm we might be killed." This of course only increased the terror of the other two, as well as his own.

"But we cannot leave the bunnies out here!" wailed Êlien. "They will be too scared of being killed!" Rîneth began to sob.

Legolas swallowed hard. "We… we can take them into our rooms," he stammered, turning and pushing his companions back towards the door.

The children stumbled through the garden, trying to dodge bushes and flower beds while protecting the trembling rabbits. Thunder continued to boom behind them, growing in both proximity and frequency. They were almost to the door when a downpour began and completely drenched them. Cold, dripping, and scared, the elflings neglected all previous attempts at secrecy. They scurried indoors, accidentally forgetting to close the door behind them: their hands were, after all, full of furry animals.

Legolas led the way towards his room, where they could leave the bunnies in safety and go to change their wet nightgowns. As they scampered past the bedroom of the king and queen, a loud thunderclap drove them to abandon their previously charted course. Retracing their last few steps in a dash, all three little elflings bounded into the royal couple's chambers, bunnies still in tow.

Gíl-wen had just finished nursing baby Ferolas and was trying to hush him back to sleep despite the storm, when three unknown, very wet and small persons came hurtling out of nowhere into the bed. Thranduil bolted upright, wide awake.

"What in the name of..." he exclaimed, too stunned to be immediately angry at being awoken in such a disagreeable manner. "Who...?" He grasped the shirt off the elfling nearest to him and recognized the offender. "Legolas!" And then he realized that not only was the child dripping wet, he was carrying two rabbits. The king quickly worked out the sequence of events. "You went outside?" he asked sternly. "At night? And then you brought in the rabbits?!"

Another clap of thunder cut off any excuse the young prince could have made up. Legolas squealed in terror and launched himself, bunnies and all, at his _Adar_, bravery forgotten. The two little girls had meanwhile found themselves tucked safely, and quite warmly, in the blankets beside the queen. In the time that her husband had managed to awaken, recognize the intruders, and come to some sort of scolding conclusion, Gíl-wen had hastily put the baby in his cradle, stripped both the young _ellyth_ of their sopping garments, and tucked them and their trembling bunnies in the warm bedclothes. She slipped out of the room and went in search of towels.

As the little prince now launched himself into his father's arms, Thranduil was able to catch a glimpse of his son's frightened expression in the flash of white light that accompanied the thunder. Legolas' lips trembled with suppressed hysteria and the little body that clung to the king shook in terror. The tirade that Thranduil had been about to unleash choked itself in his throat; he pulled the little boy close to him, and stroked the child's back soothingly, bunnies notwithstanding.

"Calm, _tithen las_, calm," came the steady voice of the Elven King. "You must be my brave warrior. It is only a little storm."

Legolas calmed a bit, but still shivered from the dampness of his clothing. His courage returned to him, wrapped in the comfort of his _Adar_'s strong arms.

"I tried to be brave, _Ada_, for the bunnies," replied the elfing, his voice muffled against Thranduil's chest. "We were bringing them to my room, so they did not have to stay outside in the storm."

Whether the elflings had left the palace for that same reason, Thranduil did not question. His son was too frightened to receive a scolding that night, and truthfully it was a good thing that the rabbits and their kittens were now inside. Still making small circles on his son's back with his fingers, he began to remove the wet nightclothes from the shaking little _ellon_. Legolas' very skin was damp from the deluge and his shivering was not only due to fright. The king held his child close once more, hoping to warm him by means of body heat.

"It's ok, _penneth_, you did well," he commended, for the little one had done the right thing in bringing the creatures into a more hospitable atmosphere. Heavens knows if the newborn kittens would have survived the strong storm of the Greenwood, feeble and young as they were, and if they had not made it through the night, Thranduil would have to reckon with both his wife and his unhappy children.

"Thank you, _Ada_," murmured the trembling elfling and yawned tiredly, bottom lip quivering.

Gíl-wen re-entered the bedroom with a pile of thick towels in her arms, and a lighted candle which she set upon the mantelpiece. A servant followed her and proceed to re-stoke the dying embers of the fire.

Having tossed a warm towel to her husband, she began to wrap the other two around the princess and her little friend, whose wet hair was soaking into the clean, dry pillowcases. She also proceed to dry the rabbits' and their kittens' fur as well. Life with elflings was full of such happenings, she reflected resignedly.

"Everything is alright now," she murmured as she rubbed the children and their little charges with the towels. The elflings were much calmer now that they were in the safety and warmth of the big bed, though they jumped slightly with each resounding clap of thunder. The bunnies, on the other hand, were not quite sure what to make of the situation, and looked about the room in bewilderment.

On the other side of the bed Legolas lay still, enveloped in a warm towel, snuggled up close with his father, his own little arms wrapped securely around the rabbits. Exhausted from fright and the exertions of the evening, he soon nodded off. His breath came slow and soft against Thranduil's neck.

Though the onslaught of rain continued, the worst of the storm–the thunder and the lightning–had ceased, and the room was now warm from the heat of the newly kindled fire.

After thanking and dismissing the servant, Gíl-wen briefly checked on her slumbering babe before she climbed back into bed with the king, the elflings, and the bunnies. The little prince had fallen asleep, while the little _ellyth_ were quietly talking to each other and their new pets.

Gíl-wen smiled lovingly at the sight of her husband and son cuddled together with Fingolfin and the new kitten on the opposite side of the bed.

"You are such a softie, Thran, you know that don't you?" she said warmly.

"I know," replied the Elven King, bending his head down slightly to place a kiss on his son's brow. In the muted glow of the fire's light, Gíl-wen caught a twinkle in her husband's grey-blue eyes. "Whoever would have thought that I would have shared a bed with Fingolfin?"

Gíl-wen laughed softly. "_Daerada_ would be proud!"

"Fingolfin is not your _daerada_, _Naneth_," piped up an all-knowing Êlien. "He is a bunny. He can't be." The little princess had not yet learned her history lessons, nor her family's genealogy, but she knew enough to realize that her Naneth did not share traits with the rabbit who was asleep in her brother's arms. "Besides," she continued, "even if he could be, he has bunnies of his own now."

Before Gíl-wen could inform her daughter that her great great grandfather and the current royal bunny shared a name, Thranduil spoke in acclamation of his little princess' precocious brilliance.

"That is correct,_ rîn tithen nin _(my little princess); your _naneth_ could not have come from bunnies. You are very smart."

"Of course, _Ada_," agreed the little one, quite matter-of-factly, and resumed petting her little kittens.

Gíl-wen briefly glared at her husband for indulging his daughter–for she was completely and utterly his child at times like these– and commenced her explanation.

"You should thank your _adar_ for the compliment, _gur nin_; and while it is true that Fingolfin is our bunny, he is named after my great grandfather."

"Oh," said the little elleth, processing this new information. "Well, I suppose they can share. But I do not understand why I have to thank adar. He did not give me a compl-i-ment"– she struggled successfully over the big word– "he only told the truth."

Thranduil resisted the urge to chuckle, while Gíl-wen shook her head slightly and rolled her eyes. Sometimes there was no arguing with her daughter.

"Very well," she sighed resignedly, "now you and Rîneth should stop your talking and go to sleep. You need to be well rested if you wish to spend tomorrow with the little kittens."

"Yes, _Nana_," said the little princess obediently and she yawned sleepily, before adding, "I love you, Ada."

" 'Night, queenie," murmured an already half-sleeping Rîneth, who had snuggled up against Gíl-wen's right side. The little _elleth_ lived in the palace as her father was the captain of the guard and his family had their own suites near those of the royal family. This was not the first time she had found her way into king and queen's bed tagging along with the prince and princess and Gíl-wen and Thranduil treated her as one of their own.

"Goodnight, dears," Gíl-wen murmured endearingly, placing a small kiss on Rîneth's forehead and reaching out to stroke Êlien's raven locks lovingly. "They are so precious…" the queen whispered to her husband. "Even though we probably will get no sleep tonight, to have them in bed with us and all their little pets is so endearing."

"Aye, it is," replied Thranduil. "Though we shall have to speak to them tomorrow about sneaking out. But for now, I think we are all quite comfortable where we are. Only Aglar is missing." Aglar, the royal elk, was the most recent mount in a history of several generation of moose.

"Aglar is too big, _Ada_." A tired voice reverberated on the king's chest and he looked down to see his son blinking sleepily up at him.

"Why hello, _ion nin_; you should be sleeping, _penneth_."

"You should too, _Ada,_" came his little one's cheeky retort, and Thranduil tapped his son's nose playfully. Legolas had stretched his limbs and yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes and, now, wide awake, was focusing on the two rabbits in his arms. He looked up at his father pleadingly. "Can we keep them in our rooms with us, _Ada_, at least until they are big enough? Please, _Ada_… "

"Well, I suppose so, if you take care of them as well," the king said obliging.

Legolas barely contained a squeal of delight. "Thank you, _Adar._" He looked down at the sleeping kitten. "I shall name mine, Glorfindel," he stated definitively. The little prince hero-worshiped the Balrog Slayer, even though he had never met him. Thranduil chuckled at the thought of having a rabbit named after the mighty lord–the King and the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower were not exactly on the best of terms as they had both courted the Lady Gíl-wen simultaneously. They were courteous to each other at best, but Glorfindel was still extremely saddened that the Woodland king had managed to snatch his beloved from under his nose. Gíl-wen had been in his heart for over two centuries before she had agreed to give him a chance to court her, but she had promptly fallen in love with the king of Mirkwood.

Thranduil winked at his wife. "What do you think, _meleth_?" he teased. "Is that a good name for our child's pet?"

"Well, at least it is more original than Aglar," she retorted, turning the joke back upon its author. Thranduil had a habit of naming each successive moose since his first one: Aglar.

The king sighed, ever the martyr. "You know, we are not a house of bunnies alone," he said. "Elk have rights as well as rabbits, and everyone would do well to remember it." Little Legolas nodded affirmatively at his father's mandate, not recognizing his sarcasm.

Gíl-wen just looked at Thranduil and he flashed her a mischievous grin. Then the king, after snuggling his son in beside him again, stretched out his hand to his queen. She took it and they lay like that with their elflings and their bunnies until the morning sun drove away the storm clouds of the night.


End file.
